


Sparking a War (of the Sexy Kind)

by angeredthoughts



Series: Stiles' Fumbling Magic [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: And feels, M/M, Magic Happened, Magic!Stiles, No Beta, Original Character Death(s), There will be uglyness, Vampires, Werewolves, and possibly laughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:59:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angeredthoughts/pseuds/angeredthoughts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is magical. This causes problems. This time the problems involve sexy men chasing him around. This may or may not end well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red Tinted Oopsies

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Stiles leaned back against his pillow. He should’ve been asleep but then he’d spotted the leather bound book under a pile of laundry and he hadn’t put it down since. He smiled down at it, running his fingers over the pages lightly. He wasn’t sure where it had come from but he figured it had been a batch from Deaton’s office that he’d forgotten to return. He’d been practicing magic for over a year now and he was getting pretty good at it. He messed up, a lot, but he always figured out how to fix the problem. It had been his eighteen birthday present from Deaton, who said he needed to practice. Though he had scowled at him the entire time; he supposed the man was never going to get over the fact he accidently turned his clinic into a fun house. He also supposed that the present was more to make sure he didn’t do that again. 

Thus far, he’d accidently turned Isaac into an actual puppy, turned Scott into a girl, created a lightning storm that took out the towns power for a week and of course, the most memorable, he’d accidently turned every werewolf into a kitten. The first one had been adorable and he’d carried Isaac around everywhere until he’d managed to change him back. Scott’s problem had been a little harder to resolve, since he was prone to bursting into tears at the slightest provocation. It was really hard to find a way to return someone’s penis when they kept crying. The situation had resolved itself when Isaac had given into his attraction and talked Scott into a date. To this day, Stiles teased his best friend about being easy. Since Allison was gone, it hadn’t been hard to see how the two had been close, but Stiles had taken delight in telling them that he’d messed up even further, since the spell had been meant to last until Scott had given birth. He’d misread that part, so he’d only needed to have sex. He was sure there had been a secret party of relief from the rest of the pack, since Scott was a hormonal woman. 

The last spell had taken much longer to reverse; longer then anyone wanted to talk about. It had been hilarious to see the kittens with flashing wolf eyes; right up to the point where they had chased him through the forest in anger. He had thought it was funny until one of them had caught his leg and dug their claws in. Then he’d run until he’d remembered they were all supernatural kittens. He’d put them in a mountain ash barrier and then buckled down to find the counter to his mishap. It was embarrassing when he realized all he had to do was pet them. They had all laughed at him for it, but he’d accepted it. He still sent them photos for Christmas. They still chased him through the forest whenever they got them. 

Shaking his head, he looked down at the book. He read through a few more pages before spotting a little spell. It was a simple read but he didn’t understand the explanation of what it was. There were no real instructions for anything he needed to cast it; it was just a spell. He stared at it, his eyes swimming. He rubbed them and looked at the spell again. There was something calling to him and he was speaking before he thought it through, “ _procul enim ab domo aestibus viros; sorte tua in finem, non sciri potest; ignis, aqua, magnitudine et virtute; veni facere imperata hoc corda volunt; hoc immolatum est sanguis studiosoque; revertatur dilectus a bello de me_.”*

Blinking as he finished, he looked around. Nothing seemed to happen even so he was going to blame the exhaustion on why he’d read it out loud instead in his head. He sighed and put the book away, after sliding a marker into its pages so he could pick up reading where he left off in the morning. Stretching, he tugged off his jeans and shirt, tossing them into his laundry before making for his inviting bed. He came to an abrupt stop as a flash of light filled his room before he spun around. He gaped in surprise at the man standing in his room. He was naked and there were soap suds on him. Stiles couldn’t help the way his eyes lingered over his ass before the man turned around.

Those were some seriously blue eyes and he froze, staring in shock as the man smirked at him. He realized he was in his boxers and licked his lips nervously, taking a step back. The man just stalked forward and stepped into his personal space without fear. He wasn’t human. Everything in his body screamed at him to duck his head and hide his neck, but he was afraid to take his eyes away from him.

“How did I get here?”

“Uhm… I may have… maybe… spell?”

“You’re a witch?”

“Sort of… sometimes?”

The man’s smirk seemed to deepen before he leaned forward and pressed his nose to his shoulder. Stiles stiffened in shock before there was a short yet sharp pain. He cried out and his hands shot forward to cling to the still wet and soapy skin. He felt a pull in his shoulder and he managed to look over to see the strange veins and fangs before the man pulled away and stole a pair of jeans from his dresser. He collapsed onto his bed, dazed and shocked before the man gave him a look. He smirked once more before climbing out his window.

“I… am in so much trouble,” Stiles decided before falling backwards into his pillows. He was pretty sure his shoulder was still leaking blood, but… he was more concerned about the lack of name from his mysterious visitor. Shaking his head, he burrowed under his sheets, sort of wishing he still lived with his dad, “No more spell books before bed…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Translation:  
> the tides of men have you far from home  
> your destiny's end cannot be known  
> with the power of water and the power of fire  
> come do the bidding of this hearts desire  
> sacrificed blood of this devotee  
> bring back my lover from battle to me


	2. Disorienting Awakening

The steady beeping was annoying the hell out of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push the sound away. As his annoyance became more pronounced though, the beeping sound seemed to get faster. Grudgingly he opened his eyes and glared where his alarm should’ve been. It took several seconds for him to understand that he was glaring at a white bedside table. He blinked slowly at it before turning his head and seeing a heart monitor. It was what was beeping, telling any who entered that his heart was still beating. It confused him. He looked down at his clothing, seeing the hospital gown and rubbed his eyes. He felt something on his shoulder and looked down as much as he could. There was a bandage taped there and he blinked slowly, trying to remember but feeling groggy.

Lifting his head, he blinked in surprise when he met the red eyes of Derek Hale. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but words failed him. He rubbed his eyes again to make sure he was seeing things properly, but no, he was really there. He looked around the room and saw signs that his father had been there, but he wasn’t now. He turned back to Derek and tilted his head a little, confused as to why he was glaring at him. Before either of them could consider speaking, Melissa McCall entered the room. She let out a sound of relief before moving over to check his vitals. He was handed a glass of cold water, which helped his throat, then he was handed a tray of soft foods and told to eat.

Slowly the events of what had happened before he’d fallen asleep crept up on him. He blushed and looked down at the tray. He had managed to do something stupid again. Pushing the tray away, he looked over at Derek once more. They were alone again and he was glaring angrily at the bandage on his shoulder. Perhaps he thought if he glared at it long enough it would go away? Stiles snorted at the thought and Derek’s eyes snapped up to his.

“I came to check on you, you missed the morning pack meeting,” he grumped, looking extra surly; “You were still in bed, covered in blood. That wound pulled open in your sleep and you were bleeding to death. I called for an ambulance then searched your room. Who was in there with you?” he asked, leaning forward, his eyes glowing red.

“I was!” came the cheerful response.

Stiles watched Derek’s head snap towards the door. It was interesting to watch since he was pretty certain that should’ve hurt. He blinked and turned his head as well; much slower though. He tilted his head at the painfully handsome man who was leaning against the doorframe. He wasn’t naked now (though Stiles was slightly disappointed by that) and he seemed amused, if a little guilty as well.

“Sorry about the bite. I was hungry and considering who to bite when I found myself, well, in your room.”

Derek’s eyes snapped towards him and he desperately tried to look innocent, but he could tell he’d failed when Derek’s eyes narrowed. He shifted nervously in his seat before blurting, “I was tired and I found a book and I was reading it and maybe I accidently sorta kinda read one spell out loud?” he blurted out, shrinking back from the glare.

“Oh, he did. I know the scent of magic. Surprised the hell out of me to appear in front of handsome guy in his boxers,” the guy supplied.

“Stiles…” Derek growled.

“Who names their kid Stiles?”

Stiles rubbed his face, “Not my real name and I don’t care how you try; I am not telling you my real name. Everyone says it wrong,” he muttered before looking around the room.

“Fair enough; since I know your name, mine is Damon,” the man offered, his smirk disarming and charming, “And you are?” he directed at Derek.

“Derek,” he muttered, glaring at the man.

It was at that moment Stiles realized that Derek had been steadily getting closer to him. He blinked in confusion at him before he noted even Damon had moved closer. They were both at the foot of his bed and he felt oddly like they were competing. He had no idea what they were competing over but he was pretty certain they shouldn’t start anything here in the hospital.“Uhm, guys?” he asked, and blinked as both of them turned towards him, pinning him beneath their intense gazes. He cleared his throat nervously, “Is… Damon… uh…” he trailed off, not sure how to ask.

“If you are asking about what I am, the answer is yes, vampire. He’s a werewolf and you’re a witch. An amusing one at that,” Damon commented.

Derek growled and rested his hand on Stiles leg, making him blink but the smirk on Damon’s face told him there was something he was missing. He looked at them both in confusion before Damon’s hand landed on his thigh and rubbed. There was a second where he was certain the air turned to electricity before Derek was over the bed and slamming Damon into the wall. Stiles mouth fell open in shock as he held him there before Damon was free. He blinked, having missed something, and saw Derek was on his back on the floor. He lifted his head as the man came over before he was grabbed into a heart searing kiss.

Dazed, he almost missed the, “See you soon, Amber-Eyes,” before the vampire was gone. The werewolf was snarling though and Stiles stared at him before he was grabbed into another kiss. He was short of breath when Derek released him and stormed out. Stiles blinked slowly before falling back into his pillow.

“Maybe I’m not actually awake…?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So while I am working on this, diligently, there may be random bursts of pauses between chapters. My grandmother is in the hospital, so yeah.


	3. Furry Issues

He was released from the hospital later that day. He was back in his apartment and staring at his bed in horror. There was a lot of blood on it. He tilted his head to the side and saw how he’d ruined his pillows forever. It was a sickening shade of brown, when it had been green. He swallowed thickly before leaving and getting a garbage bag from the kitchen. He stripped his bed and tossed everything. He looked at the mattress and rubbed his face. It was soaked as well and he wondered how the bite had been so bad. It hadn’t been bleeding when he’d fallen asleep; at least he was pretty sure it hadn’t been. He looked around his room and saw the spell book. Putting it on his desk he was stuck staring sadly at his mattress. He loved that mattress. It had been beaten into comfortable submission over the two years he’d lived on his own.

With a sigh of resignation, he finished putting everything in a bag before sitting at his desk and opening his laptop. He was about to start an epic search for the best mattress ever, when there was a very solid and insistent knock on his door. He blinked in confusion before answering. Scott and Isaac were there, holding a new mattress while Erica and Boyd just brushed past him, heading straight to his bedroom. He turned his head, dazed and got out of the way as the other two werewolves growled at him. They carried in the mattress as the other two carried out his old one. He wanted to protest, but he could see Derek standing there with his arms crossed, glaring at him.

“What the hell is going on?” Stiles suddenly blurts out, done with feeling baffled.

“You need a new bed. We brought your mattress from the house. We’ll replace that one,” Derek explained, his eyebrows doing a strange dance on his forehead. It seemed as though he couldn’t decide if he should relax or kill him. It was unnerving.

Scott stepped up beside him and held out two sets of sheets, obviously scowling but waiting. Stiles blinked in confusion before looking down and pointing to the blue set. He watched him leave before the door swung open and the others returned, with Lydia and Jackson in tow. They were carrying blankets and pillows. He knew where they were from and his eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Relax Stiles, we’re not moving in,” Lydia offered, her creepy ability to read his mind never failing to freak him out.

“That… that’s not actually that soothing,” he confessed, watching Jackson flop onto his couch. Slowly he realized the pack was spreading out around his apartment and molesting his things, “Are you freaking kidding me? Seriously?” he spun and saw Derek giving him his best innocent expression. It sort of made him look like he’d just mauled a puppy. He rubbed his forehead in frustration and began to chase the wolves away from his things until they were all huddled on his sofa, staring with wide eyes. Tapping his foot impatiently, he glared at Derek, “Is this about Damon?”

“Damon?”

“DEREK!”

“Fine, yes, it is about that stupid vampire,” he grumped, glowering at the window.

Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he looked over at the other werewolves. They were trying desperately to look innocent but they were also failing miserably. He idly wondered if there was something about being werewolves that made it look like they’d just slaughtered a pet store of cute innocent creatures whenever they tried. Rubbing his forehead, he looked around at his things. They had moved stuff as they touched and rubbed against them. He was pretty certain someone had managed to shed on his curtains. Growling with frustration he glared at them all, “Out.”

It took a nod from Derek before they flee his apartment and he turned to the other man with his hands clenched, “I will figure out what to do about Damon and look up that spell. Now stop having your puppies molest my things!”

Derek paused for a moment and Stiles could see evil ideas forming in his head. He blinked slowly and began to step back. It mattered little as he darted forward and pressed him against the wall. Their bodies were aligned together perfectly and he stared in shock up at him. He was about to say something about the obscene way he was being held when Derek’s lips connected with his. He blinked for a second before responding. He wasn’t entirely certain why there seemed to be a war over him, but he wasn’t going to fight it. He’d been lusting after Derek for over a year now. Any touch was a good touch.

Derek seemed determined for some reason and it lessened the fun, just a bit. Stiles panted when he pulled away before Derek pushed their pants down and out of the way. He looked down in shock at their erections. He was pleased that Derek was aroused, but for all he knew, freaky werewolf abilities let them get an erection on demand. Derek gripped them both and jerked them together.

“Fuck!” he cried out, his head smacking into the wall. Derek stroked them in measured and controlled strokes before Stiles jerked his hips, trying to get more. Within minutes of starting, Stiles felt like he’d just exploded all over the place. The echoing smatter of cum all over his thighs told him Derek hadn’t lasted much longer. He leaned against the wall, panting as Derek stepped back. He made a pleased sound but Stiles was still trying to catch his breath. He closed his eyes for a few seconds before opening them… to find he was alone.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he grumbled before stumbling to the bathroom. He stripped down and took a shower, not thinking much as he washed away all evidence of their activities. He pulled on a spare set of boxers and walked into his room, grumbling under his breath.

“Are you aware it smells like dog here?”


	4. Dark Seductions

He didn’t mean to scream, but he had thought he was alone. Damon smirked at him while he clutched at his chest and glared at the vampire; desperately waiting for his heart to finally stop hammering in his chest. He was lounging on his bed and in his mind he realized it was the one place the wolves had not molested. A nugget of amusement worked its way into his mind, wondering how they had missed it. He shook his head and entered his room. Feeling overly undressed in his boxers, he looked at Damon. He was wearing clothing that clung to his frame in just the right ways.

Swallowing over a strange lump in his throat, he moved and looked at the vampire, “How is it fair that you made me bleed all over my old mattress and you get to lie on my new one before me?” he muttered. Shaking his head, he tried to shove him off the bed but instead found himself on his back with the vampire hovering over him. He blinked in surprise before something seemed to calm him. It was strange. He relaxed into the bed and watched as he moved around his bedroom. He found the spell book and opened it before nodding and taking a photo. He just stared at him, not having a problem with it. There was a whisper in the back of his mind that told him it should bother him. He ignored it.

Damon returned to the bed and looked down at him, “I don’t usually go for guys, but there is something about you,” he stated. Stiles stared, his mouth going dry, as Damon easily stripping his way out of his shirt. Seconds later their chests were pressed together. Damon was murmuring sexily in his ear, telling him about how delicious he’d tasted. He didn’t really think anything of it as he was stripped out of his boxers. He was dazed though, not understanding why he was so willing to let a stranger touch him.

Shaking his head, he opened his mouth to say something when Damon’s mouth descended onto his. His lips were firmer then they looked and he was certain the strange groan was actually from his own throat. Stiles clung to him as he pressed his body firmly against his. He felt a hardness against his thigh before it moved and he realized he was hard as well. He felt drunk. His breath was stolen with kisses and somehow they were both naked. He looked down at the large hand wrapped around his erection and saw Damon’s erection. Somehow his mind was filled with questions on how that was possible. He was dead, no blood flow, but… somehow the blood had to move, didn’t it? Maybe… he was distracted by his thoughts as Damon’s penis pressed against his and then he was lost as he abruptly came.

It was pretty embarrassing to pass out three seconds later as well.

* * *

Jerking upright at the sound of growling, he yelped in shock and fell out of his bed. It was pitch black in his room, but for a pair of glowing red eyes. He stared in shock before light flooded his eyes. He howled in surprised shock before blinking rapidly at the sight of Derek, staring at him, his nostrils flaring at every breath. It took a few seconds for him to realize he was still covered in cum and very much naked. He squeaked and tried to hide but Derek was there between breaths, pressing him against a wall.

“What the hell, Stilinski?”

“He was already here! And then…” he trailed off, his face falling from terrified to a confused frown, “I don’t know what happened… we were naked though? I think? And some sort of sex?” he admitted.

It wasn’t the best of ideas. Derek growled and pinned him against the wall with his whole body. Stiles stuttered in surprise as he licked his neck a few times before dragging him to the shower. Stiles blinked in confusion, not understanding a damn thing as the werewolf stripped down and pulled him under the spray. He stood there, baffled, as Derek firmly washed his body and rubbed his face against anywhere Damon had touched. It confused him and aroused him. Damon had spent a lot of time touching his dick.

Groaning in surprise when Derek licked him, his eyes widened. He looked down at him and saw a determined look on his face, “Derek…” he whispered. He wanted to tell him to stop. He needed to tell him not to do it just because of Damon, but he wanted it. He wanted Derek to touch him and want him. He whimpered and suddenly he was alone. He looked around, confused, seeing nothing. Derek was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shifty eyes* I felt like, you know...sharing... *grin*


	5. Magical Mayhem

After a fitful sleep and several strange dreams about being sexed by two dark haired, amazing eyed and tall assholes, he wondered how in the hell anyone ever trusted him with anything. He stared at the book in horror before packing his stuff up. He packed his books, because he knew that once more, he was going to be in trouble and there was little he could do about it. Grumbling softly to himself, he packed everything into his jeep and headed to Doctor Alan Deaton’s office. He stopped for coffee and bought a danish on a whim. He knew it wouldn’t help much, but it might prevent yelling. He sort of understood how the spell was supposed to work and he wondered what he’d done to screw it up this time.

It was a simple spell, a very simple spell, but it wasn’t meant to be used on a whim. It was meant to bring lost lover’s home if they’d gone missing in war. Be it their body or alive; it brought them home, it was supposed to bring closure. Now, he had been lonely, feeling as though he’d never get the chance to find real love, but the spell shouldn’t have worked. It had brought Damon to him and had seemed to have made his body a warzone. It was hard to miss simple differences and similarities between Derek and Damon. They were both Alphas in their own way, though Damon seemed to stick to himself more. They both seemed to find amusement in making him flustered as well. Yet neither of them would seem similar at first. Damon was outgoing, almost violently so, stating his mind without much fear. Derek scowled, a lot; it was hard to think of him as outgoing when he was always scowling.

So, somehow, he’d turned a spell meant to bring a lost love one back from war into a spell that had two men battling over him. If it weren’t for the fact it was a spell, he would’ve loved it. It was nice to feel wanted, but it wasn’t real. Sighing with regret, he got to his feet and dragged himself into the clinic. He lifted his head and saw Deaton was already waiting for him with his arms crossed, “Oops?”

“Did you need to read the spell aloud?”

“Well… no… but, y’know…”

“I’m confiscating the books!”

“I saw that coming,” he admitted, dropping the bag onto the floor between them.

Deaton didn’t even pause as he picked it up and locked it into his office. Stiles grumbled under his breath about Deaton being a prissy cat, along with a slue of other comments. He lifted his head when he heard a hiss and stared in horror. Deaton now had cat ears, whiskers and he could see his new tail flicking behind him in agitation. He forgot about intent. He swallowed, thinking about the various cat snarks he’d been making before he ducked under the examination table.

“Sorry!” he cried out, hoping he’d missed the claws; he didn’t.

Dragged out and set down, Deaton rubbed his temples in an increasingly familiar tempo of 1-2-3. It was a habit the man had picked up after dealing with him. He felt a little bad about it, but it wasn’t his fault. He sat there, feeling guilty, while Deaton made himself something to counter his accidental magic. He set the journal he’d been reading down and Stiles quickly flipped to the spell he’d used. Deaton read it then looked at him. He looked back to the book then back to him for several minutes before scoffing.

“Somehow, you managed to turn the last line,  _revertatur dilectus a bello ad me,_  into _revertatur dilectus a bello de me_ ,” he stated, “And the spell will not wear off until either party concedes. Congratulations, Stiles, you’ve turned yourself into a warzone,” he snapped before grumbling about people who should’ve never been allowed to play with spells.

Sighing, he rubbed his head and looked at Deaton. He hadn’t really been all for him learning magic, but it had helped. Now days he was almost able to concentrate on things; though he still needed his medication. He looked at him and opening his mouth to apologize when they both stilled. Stiles looked worried and Deaton looked annoyed. They both looked outside to see Derek and Damon fighting in the alley.

“How clichéd is that?” Both of them looked straight towards him and Stiles hid behind Deaton. He could tell the man was now amused, “Why a vampire?” he asked.

“Because no wolf would go near you,” Deaton stated, looking at him. He saw the confusion and rolled his eyes, “The pack keeps you well scented, Stiles. No wolf would dare challenge them. I am unsure of why Derek hadn’t made a move sooner, since he seems to be very possessive of you…” he trailed off before shrugging, “As it is, a vampire would ignore a wolf’s claim. A human would’ve just run away as well,” he answered the unasked question.

A crash distracted them from their conversation. He wanted to ask what he knew about vampires, but they turned their heads to see Damon pulling himself out of the remains of a dumpster. Stiles blinked his eyes at this before they were at each other again. He huffed in annoyance and stepped forward, out of the protective shielding of the clinic. Within seconds Derek had his arm wrapped around him and was growling at Damon.

“Well…” Damon started, smoothing out his ruined shirt, “Until we meet again, Stiles,” he promised before he ran off.

Stiles looked up at Derek, who looked horrified. Before he could say anything, he was pinned to the wall and Derek was rubbing up against him. Eyes wide with shock, he heard the door of the clinic click shut as Deaton gave them privacy. He struggled a little, the wall hard and uncomfortable against his back. Derek growled before the sound of a zipper seemed to echo through the alley. He looked down and saw his pants were now open. Mouth open in shock, he barely had time to think before he was working him furiously. Stiles whined before spilling all over his hand. He rested his head on Derek’s shoulder.

“Mine,” he promised before leaving.

Stiles fell to the ground and stared in shock. He was relieved Derek hadn’t run off this time. Then he wondered how they would feel about Kevin, his boyfriend…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A have another idea brewing, but am unsure of it. [Check it out](http://angeredthoughts.tumblr.com/post/62583174404/so-i-was-thinking-of-another-fic-idea-what-if)?


	6. Single Once More

Kevin was away on business but Stiles hadn’t told anyone about him. They had only been together a month, but he liked him. Now he had the dubious pleasure of informing him that there was a magic battle that he started over his hot body. Sighing, he got off the ground and headed home. There was no way he was ever going to be able to look at Deaton today. With a huff of annoyance, he wondered why this was his life. Was he doomed to accidently keep causing this shit? Shaking his head, he drove himself home.

Arriving, he spotted the small green car and grinned before running upstairs. He was about halfway there when he remembered what had happened. He stopped beside a random mirror, idly wondering why there were so many hanging in the hallways. Fixing his appearance, he smoothed his clothing before continuing on his way. Entering the apartment, he opened his mouth to greet Kevin, only to see him staring in horror at him. He blinked and looked down at himself before Kevin backed away. He turned his head and saw he had an entourage.

Damon and Derek entered together and went straight for the other man. Stiles made a sound of protest and moved to stop them, but neither of them seemed to care. They simply saw competition outside their little war and they united. Stiles was helpless as they terrorized Kevin before he remembered, hey, magic. He waved his hand and muttered a short spell. They were both frozen and he moved quickly, tugging Kevin away from them. Opening his mouth to say something, he was startled when Kevin punched him.

Falling to the ground, he looked up to see the unnatural hatred he’d only seen once before. Swallowing painfully, he backed away from him. Witch hunters were strangely violent, with no code to follow. They simply killed any witch they came across. He could feel Damon and Derek straining against his spell, but he was having trouble remembering how to cancel it.

“You bewitched me, didn’t you? Forced me to like you,” Kevin hissed, glaring angrily down at him.

Desperately, Stiles tried to cast the spell again, but Kevin was faster and kicked him in the ribs. A burst of air left him before he was yelping. He fought to remember how to cancel the spell, even knowing it would wear off after five minutes. Giving up, he just worked on getting free from the crazy witch hunter. He knew what they did to magic users, no matter if they were actual witches or not. He had no desire to find out how flammable he was. Kevin grabbed his hair and dragged him from the living room to the bedroom. He was muttering things under his breath and Stiles didn’t give a shit, he just wanted the crazy man to let go. He was also considering never freezing people again. It was a bad idea, encouraged by the fact he was now about to be brutally murdered.

Thrown on the bed, he started to roll off the edge but he was there and he screamed in pain. Kevin drove two knives through his hands into the headboard. He looked up in agony, seeing the gleeful look in his eyes as he emptied a can of lighter fluid over him. Trying to pull his hands away, he screamed as another knife was driven into his leg. He kept fighting, kicking out at him when he tried to light a match and trying to pull his hands free. It was all for nothing when the bed suddenly burst into flames. He screamed as the flames licked across his skin, burning through his flesh.

It didn’t last long before a body slammed into him, rolling away and onto the floor. He looked up into the horrified eyes of Derek before the sound of his fire extinguisher filled the air. Looking over, he saw Kevin was dead and Damon was putting out the fire. Swallowing painfully, he wondered if it was luck that most the building was empty at this time. Pulled upright, he whimpered in pain. There was no way he wanted to see what he looked like but he looked at his hands. The knives were removed, but he couldn’t move them without pain. Abruptly Damon was there, pressing his wrist against his mouth. He swallowed without thinking, making a face at the blood. Damon nodded his head and pulled his wrist away. It healed easily, but Stiles was more shocked by the fact his body was healing just as fluidly.

“As long as you don’t die in the next 24 hours, you’ll be fine,” he explained before looking down, “I liked that mattress.”

“Of course,” Derek muttered, holding him close.

“Well… I think I’m single again.”

Stiles was more then a little alarmed by the looks that sudden graced both their faces. He couldn’t even see Derek’s face but he knew the same hungry look suddenly just took over. Swallowing, he tugged himself away and looked alarmed at them. Everything was getting a little scarier… and hotter. It didn’t matter though, since there were things to do. Like get another mattress. He idly wondered in the back of his mind, behind the thoughts of Derek’s arms around him, how many mattresses he was going to go through for this ‘war’.

About to say something, he jerked, startled, when the door to his apartment burst open. He moved with Damon and Derek and blinked at the frowning male and annoyed girl standing there. They seemed unable to enter. He looked at Damon as he groaned in annoyance, “Brother, Caroline; how did you find me?”

“Bonnie,” Caroline answered as she pressed against some invisible shield, “You disappeared in the middle of being yelled at and she sensed the magic. Traced it here and we came,” she explained.

“What happened, Damon?” Stefan asked. His voice matched the pained constipated look on his face and Stiles was kind of amused by it.

“Magic, obviously,” came the snarky response before, “If you want, you can invite them in. Until you do, they can’t get in.”

“But… how are you able to get in?”

“Guess it was the spell; acted like an invitation.”

Stiles could feel Derek’s low growl and Damon’s possessive hand on his arm. He could see the two people staring at him in disbelief. He rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath about stupid possessive assholes before speaking, “Come in.”

Within seconds they were inside and looking in his bedroom. He squawked before Stefan was slamming his brother against the wall, “What did you do?”

“Hey, my apartment,” Stiles snapped before muttering a spell that forcibly separated them, “And he was saving my life, so stuff it.”

Caroline returned and nodded her head, apparently having checked everything, “Sorry about them. They never seem to go long without creating angst between them.”

“We’re going to go, talk and stuff.” Damon flashed his grin at him, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Around 6; wear something nice,” he finished before leaving with the two other vampires.

“Was I just told I was going on a date?”

“Yes,” growled Derek who grabbed him and kissed him. He blinked in surprise when he pulled away, “Day after, same time; wear your hoodie.”

With that, Stiles was alone. He sighed and dialled Allison, “Hey, Al, I got a dead body and a burned mattress. Think you can wrangle up some help?”


	7. A Date: Round One

Waking up the next morning had been anticlimactic. No one had been there, no one had snuck in and he felt like the stake and wolfbane knife he’d hidden under his bed had been over kill. Then he’d woken up completely and realized he had two dates in two days. He’d grabbed his phone and dialled before he finished thinking it through. Now, there were two people he could in theory go to about his problem, but he knew one of them would be snarky to the point he’d probably cry. This was detrimental to what he wanted. So he had to call the other person.

“Danny! I need clothing!”

“Stiles, it’s seven o’clock in the morning; what could you possible be freaking out over?”

“In eleven hours I have a date, with Damon, you’ve met Damon, right?”

There was several seconds of silence before, “You’re buying the coffee,” and then the phone went dead.

An hour later, he was sitting dumbly while Danny drove to pick up Jackson and Lydia. He stared at him in horror, understanding now why he had only wanted a medium coffee. He swallowed painfully and looked out as they smirked at him, clamouring into the car. He made a mental note to never, ever, wake Danny up ever again. Not even an emergency. If the man’s house was on fire he’d make the wolves carry the bed out. Dropping into a pout, he sipped his mocha and glared sullenly out the window. If he’d had any idea Danny was this cruel, he would’ve just called Lydia in the first place.

* * *

“I’m naked!”

“You have boxers on…Hey Jackson, get him some better boxers.”

“Get out!”

“No, I need to make sure these fit right,” Danny stated simply, kicking the door shut behind him.

Then he was touching him and making him squeak. He knew Jackson was laughing at him but he just closed his eyes as Danny dominated what he was wearing. It was official. Never again was he asking Danny for help with anything. The man was terrifying.

Three hours later, he was sitting patiently while Lydia and Danny argued over shoes. He was exhausted as well. Lifting his head as a coffee was placed under it; he blinked in surprise at Jackson. He accepted it and sniffed it. He made a face at the strange smell before Jackson explained, “I put some herb Deaton gave us into it. It’ll stop vampire boy from biting you or compelling you.”

“Oh, thanks?”

“Sure,” Jackson commented, sipping his own coffee, “For the record, if you wanted just Danny, you should’ve called around noon.”

Relief flooded his system, “So he’s not usually like this?”

“Nope; just to the special people who wake him up three hours after he got to bed.”

“…I didn’t mean to?”

“No one ever does.”

* * *

At two, he fell back into bed and slept peacefully. Then he woke up at 5:30 and freaked the fuck out. He dived into the shower in his sweats and then got dressed frantically. It was a saving grace that his hair was still short enough that a quick rub of his towel dried it out pretty well. Then he was trying to remember where his new shoes were. By the time he was ready… Damon was standing there watching him.

“Ah hell!”

“I did knock,” Damon offered, moving forward with a sinful grace. He reached out and adjusted Stiles’ collar with an easy smile before leading him out of the apartment. He locked the door behind him and Damon led him with a hand on his back, “So we’re going to go to dinner and then I have a surprise,” Damon said, grinning.

“Vampire’s eat?” Stiles asked, surprised.

Damon just laughed and drove them into town. They ended up at a rather nice place and Damon let him regale him with facts why curly fries were better then regular fries. Damon argued back about home-style fries, thick cut, to curly fries. It was one of the best dates ever and it wasn’t over yet. He held Damon’s hand as they walked away from the restaurant until he was swung up into his arms and they were speeding through the woods. His eyes were wide with shock at how fast he was moving before they were standing at a small waterfall. It was beautiful, the moonlight caused the water to shimmer and the late summer flowers filled the air with a sweet scent.

Looking over, he watched as Damon lit several candles, giving the area an unearthly glow. He noted the candles were set up so they wouldn’t accidently burn anything down, then he was distracted by Damon coming over to him. He helped him sit down before he was pressed to him, sliding his hands over him once more. It took a few minutes for Stiles to gather the courage to do the same. As they touched they spoke. He learned how Damon became a vampire and he told Damon how he became entangled in the life of the supernatural. He learned about Damon’s love and he told him about his crushes. It was intimate in a way he never understood. They shared their losses but never once did the sadness he was used to engulf him. By the end, he was curled protectively in Damon’s arms and they were watching the last of the candles burn out.

Dropped off at home, he shared an intensely heated kiss with Damon before he was alone. He touched his lips lightly before going inside. He wasn’t sure how he felt and it confused him. He wanted to let himself fall in love with Damon, who despite his rather asshole like personality, seemed to get him in a way even his best friend didn’t; but it was still technically a war and he had to let Derek have his chance.

He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he fell for both of them.


	8. A Date: Round Two

It took three hours to get to sleep. When he did finally fall asleep, his dreams were filled with baby blue eyes and feather light touches that teased him to the edge of arousal. He woke up frustrated and shook his head. He took a long shower, cleaning himself up and jerking off twice. Coffee and toast fill him up before he flopped onto his couch and watched television for awhile. He knew he should call someone, anyone, but the fact remained that he didn’t want to. He wanted to be alone for awhile. He’d never, not once, experienced something as intense as what he’d shared with Damon. It made him nervous about Derek.

Around five, he finally got up and cleaned himself. He pulled on a new pair of jeans and one of his new shirts before chuckling as he pulled out one of the many red hoodies he owned. It had started as a joke, but it became something of a signature. Other packs avoided theirs because of him and he liked it that way. He looked down before he picked up his little bag of throwing stars. He tucked it into his pocket before heading to the door. It was six and he opened the door just in time to see Derek about to knock. Werewolf speed was a blessing, as without it Derek would’ve accidently knocked on his forehead.

“Hey there, Sourwolf.”

Derek was in one of his many Henley shirts, with a pair of dark jeans and his signature leather jacket. He wasn’t scowling for once. It was nice to see the look on his face and Stiles had to resist the urge to twirl for him. Giving him a small smile, he stepped out of his apartment and locked the door behind him. Curling his fingers around his, they walked outside. He grinned as he climbed into Derek’s car. Once more, he had no idea where he was going, but knowing he needed his hoodie told him they were probably skipping indoor activities.

Thirty minutes later, he was clinging to Derek’s back as he carried him through thick underbrush. He looked down and watched as he confidently found his way through it. Knowing how clumsy he could be, Stiles concluded he would’ve ended up in the hospital. Letting that go, he blinked in surprise at where they arrived. He hadn’t been aware of the fact the forest had a swamp like area. He looked at it in confusion before looking down at Derek’s shoulder. He was set on his feet before Derek took his hand and walked with him further. He glanced back at the swamp, something about it tugging at his mind before looking to where Derek was leading him.

It only took a few more minutes before they were at the edge of a cliff. It confused him for a second before he realized he could see Beacon Hills, lit up in all its glory, and the sky. It was a beautiful sight. He smiled softly before noting a picnic basket. He chuckled and saw Derek stiffen. He kissed his cheek before sitting down on a rock. Derek pulled out a blanket and he moved to it. They sat together, munching on cold sandwiches and some salad. It was a nice silence, though he didn’t generally prefer it.

“My mother took me here.”

Startled, Stiles looked over to Derek. He looked wistful. Swallowing his last bite, he turned to give him his full attention.

“I was having a hard time with my wolf and had to be held back a grade in school because of how many days I’d missed. She brought me here to help me relax. She wanted me to just look. It’s really peaceful here and the scent of the town…” Derek inhaled, “It helped. I’m not sure why, but…”

“But it was peaceful,” Stiles offered before looking out at the lights once more, “My mom used to drive me to the beach. When everything became too much in my head, she’d just pack us up and drive us there. I suppose it was similar. After I got my medication we didn’t have to go as often, and then she got sick… I’ve never gone back,” he confessed.

They had moved closer together; he was tucked under his chin as they fell silent. There wasn’t much need for them to talk about things to each other. They’d known each other long enough that they already knew all the relevant things. He knew about the fire and how it affected Derek while Derek knew how terrified he was of his father’s job. They were pack, there were no secrets anymore.

Letting out a deep sigh, he relaxed completely into Derek’s arms. He felt Derek’s face press into his neck and he smiled, tilting his head back, allowing him to scent him. He was only a little startled when he felt his lips press against his throat. Hands slid up his shirt to palm his warm skin and he let his fingers wander as well. There had been many puppy piles in the past but they had never once allowed themselves this sort of freedom. His fingers traced over Derek’s shoulders, taking in the thick muscles and the slow way they relaxed. Tilting his head back, he caught Derek’s lips in a slow kiss. Lazily, their tongues pressed and pulled, exploring.

Pulling away sometime later, Stiles smiled at him and kissed his nose before getting to his feet. There was nothing mean about the fact he wanted to leave, but his ass was going numb. He held Derek’s hand as he led the way out, holding the picnic basket. He didn’t protest when he was carried but when they were just about out of sight of the swamp, he glanced back. Something about it gave him the creeps and he didn’t like it. The last time something had given him the creeps Scott had almost lost his intestines. Now, he kind of wished he’d ignored his instincts, because when he looked back at the swamp…

_Something was staring back._


	9. The Battle of IKEA

A day after his date with Derek, he was stuck staring at his living room in disbelief. Derek and Damon had apparently had the same idea. They’d both arrived with food for him. It hadn’t been a problem for him and he’d greedily eaten almost everything. They had both been preening like girls trying on dresses and he’d mocked them both for it. Then he had needed to get dressed for the day. He had a few things he needed to get. Stupidly leaving them alone in his living room, he had gone and gotten changed. The first crash he’d ignored, for his sanity, but then five more had followed and he’d rushed out, shirtless. He’d stood there, staring in disbelief.

Damon and Derek were fighting. Claws and fangs flashing as they struggled to out do the other. His couch was destroyed, his coffee table in pieces, the table with his books was shattered and he was not looking at his television in horror. He wanted to stop them, but he could tell they were both fully invested in destroying each other. The door to his apartment opened and Damon’s brother flew in, followed by Scott and Boyd. They pulled them apart and held them back.

“What the fuck?” Stiles suddenly exclaimed, his voice kind of high. It froze everyone and he could see Damon and Derek staring at him with shock. He moved forward, not sure what he wanted to do, only to yelp in pain as he stepped on glass. He looked down to see the vase Lydia had given him as a joke was shattered. His foot was bleeding as well.

Stefan left his brother and helped him sit down on his kitchen stool. The glass was removed with ease and thankfully it wasn’t deep enough to need stitches. He skipped the vampire blood and just had him bandage it. Stefan then looked at his brother and shook his head, “You’re going to need to replace everything.”

“Especially Stiles' television,” Scott offered, looking sadly at the shattered remains.

“Who the hell is going to clean this though?”

He never knew that there could be a competition on who cleaned the most. He was stuck with a vampire and two werewolves watching Derek try and knock Damon over to clean the mess they made. Stiles sighed and knew they were going to IKEA.

* * *

“I am not getting a leather couch, you can’t make me.”

Everyone was trying to get him to get leather. He didn’t love leather. It was sticky and every hot day it felt like he was peeling a layer of flesh off his body when he got up. Ignoring their sulking faces, he moved to look at the other couches. He eventually found one he liked and copied down the information he needed before picking out two chairs to go with it. He looked over to see Damon admiring a small futon. He shook his head and moved on.

A new television and bookshelf later, he was watching Damon and Derek argue, again. He rubbed his face with frustration. They wanted to get him a new kitchen table. The one he had sucked. There were sugar packets under all but one leg and it still wobbled dangerously if more then a plate was on it. He crossed his arms as they finally looked at him for his opinion. Stefan was laughing with Scott, both of them mocking him. He wondered why the hell they got along while he got the bitchy twins. He looked at the dark mahogany table Derek wanted and the solid oak one Damon thought he should get. Dismissing them both, he went with the cherry wood. He tried not to think about how cute they looked when they pouted.

It was in the bedroom area they had problems. They had decided he needed the best and most comfortable bed ever. It had been going fine until they both realized what could be happening in his bed. Derek had started growling while Damon tossed innuendos around like they were nothing. Derek had thrown a bedside table at his head and Damon responded by trying to hit him with the bed he’d just been trying to convince Stiles to purchase. Stefan had pulled him out of the line of fire before both he and Scott tried to stop them. They had both ended up lying on their backs in front of him while Derek tried to stake Damon.

Rubbing his temples and remembering that this time he wasn’t on his own, he cursed them both into stillness before making them pay for all the damages. He even made them clean up the mess they created and they had to apologize to the traumatized staff.

He got a 50% discount when he promised to never shop there again.

* * *

Sitting in the chair, he kept his feet tucked under him as the arguing continued. He’d tried several times to offer his own suggestions but they had been ignored. After trying for the fourth time, he’d given up and retreated. Stefan and Scott were watching from the new couch, both of them obviously amused as hell. Blinking as they kept arguing he looked down at his phone before smirking. There was one way he could get them to stop ruining his apartment…

_S.O.S! Vamp and Were ruining apartment!_

_Be there a.s.a.p. better have coffee_

Grinning as Lydia replied, he leaned back and sipped his drink. There was more then enough coffee for her, since the vampires seemed to have an odd obsession with it. Turning his head, he asked Stefan about it. He explained how the caffeine made them feel warmer and nodded his head before asking about the alcohol. He just got a smile for that. It was creepy.

The door to his apartment opened and two females entered. He blinked and remembered the other was another vampire, Caroline. Lydia was standing there with her and both of them were glaring at Damon and Derek. Damon looked as though he was going to brush it off but Derek was already edging back. While Caroline was an unknown no one was ever going to forget Lydia trying to nail Derek to a wall after trying to force her to do hard labour. (And that was literal; they had gotten rid of the nail gun after said incident.)

“What is going on here?” Lydia demanded/asked.

“We’re setting up everything,” Damon offered, his smile charming.

“No, you’re ruining everything. I had it set up perfectly. Get out of my way.”

Damon opened his mouth to say something when Caroline glared at him. Stiles watched her eyes in fascination before he was suddenly crowded in his chair. He squawked in surprise. Damon was on his left with Derek taking his right and they were glaring at each other over his head. Lydia and Caroline had everything set up within minutes, Scott and Stefan recruited to help. As soon as they were all finished and the coffee was in their travel mugs, Stiles wrenched himself away from the two men, “It’s time for everyone to go.”

Ignoring the looks he got, he made everyone leave. Caroline looked like she wanted to say something but didn’t. Lydia just touched his arm before closing the door. He locked it them set it up so no one could enter his apartment until he decided otherwise. He sank to the floor and grabbed his head. It had been kind of fun, but now he wished there was a way to cancel the spell. He was certain neither of them would’ve even glanced at him without it. He sighed and went to bed. He took his laptop with him, intending to research until he fell asleep. Maybe there was something he could do; or he could figure out what was in the swamp.


	10. What to do When They Don’t Stop

Two days later, Stiles was ready to rip his hair out. He’d stopped researching the swamp in favour of trying to understand why two supernatural beings were battling over him. It wasn’t that bad when they were with him, alone, but if they were in the same room, it became a nightmare. The fighting was easy to ignore, since they had learned not to do anything to damage him or his things, but the baiting. They both seemed to know intimate details and had no issues with hashing it out. Derek had accused Damon of being an actual monster, stating he was willing to kill any of his lovers while Damon tossed around reminders that pervious lovers had killed and been killed. It was horrifying.

Standing in the door way once more, he was forced to watch them wrestle. They had moved his furniture but the fact remained, they were still fighting. Rubbing a hand through his hair, he turned away and went to his bedroom. He pulled out a book and sat down, staring at it. It was from Deaton, who’d he’d finally called yesterday. It was tiny and had a single spell in it. It was supposed to answer why they were so willing to keep fighting. He opened it once more and started gathering what he needed. Humming as he set up a bowl in the middle of his desk, he dropped several flower pedals and pinches of several herbs into the bowl before lighting a candle. He read through the instructions again before dipping the candle into the bowl.

Jerking back as a fire roars up and out, he stared in disbelief. Looking down at the spell book once more, he read through it again. Swallowing painfully, he looked into the bowl and saw the remains. Rubbing his head, he let out a weak laugh. It was horrible and pathetic and for the first time ever, he very much regretted learning magic. Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he tensed and looked up. Damon and Derek were standing there, looking at him with worry. He looked down into the bowl again and they stared back. 

_ Derek Hale  
_ _ Damon Salvatore _

A small bitter laugh escaped his lips before he covered his face with his hands. Rubbing roughly, almost cruelly, he turned and looked at them both. He motioned for them to step back and looked at the book once more, “Deaton said it would help me understand more. A magic user… we can’t really have normal mates,” he ignored their surprised looks, “we often look for the most compatible supernatural being to… anchor us. The way my spells sometimes twist up and go wrong… that’s because I have no anchor, no one to tie me down.

“Magic… it can be its own living thing, y’know? So sometimes it does what the user needs more. I need an anchor; it reached out and found the people who would be best to help. But I have to choose, don’t I? I don’t want to. I can’t see either of you and think of you as… as a prize. So, I’ll pay you back… but leave. Just… just go and don’t come back,” he finished, turning away.

“Stiles…” one of them started.

“I said, GO!” he yelled, releasing his magic. He heard the twin pops that told him they were both no longer in the apartment and let out a small breath.

Pulling mountain ash out of his kit, he threw it with the belief he needed. He knew without looking no one was going to bother him. He rubbed his face once more and collapsed onto his bed. He was alone once more and this time he chose it. Rolling onto his back, he stared at the ceiling. The spell had seemed like a novel idea and it had been kind of fun watching Damon and Derek battle for his affections. It had become dangerous though. Too often there were moments when it felt as though he was going to be torn apart just so they got their share.

Now he knows they were supposed to be his perfect mate, the one who could handle him and his still growing powers. While he wasn’t even thirty yet he was bored of one night stands and flings. He wanted a relationship. He didn’t want this fighting and he didn’t want to choose. Because he would have to, he knew it. He knew the flame he had for Derek was already matched by a flame that had sparked for Damon. He hadn’t even known the man for as long yet he couldn’t deny how he felt for him; how he felt for them both.

He wasn’t going to be one of those assholes that strung them along though. He let them go. It was the right thing to do. He didn’t want to hurt them; he certainly didn’t want to toy with them. Letting out a deep breath, he closed his eyes. He would talk to Deaton in a few days, after he worked through his issues, see if he’d bind some of his power, or all of it. Which ever would make him less dangerous.

Sighing once more, he rolled onto his side and gazed at the window. The moon was hidden behind clouds and if he concentrated, he could hear the howls of the pack. There was a moment where he wished he was running with them, maybe on Damon’s back so he wouldn’t be left behind, before he pushed it from his mind. Closing his eyes, he tried to sleep. His mind kept shifting through everything though, as if he was missing something. Huffing out a snarl of irritation, he got his laptop and started a search. Since he couldn’t sleep and he wasn’t going to have to deal with fighting men anymore, he might as well go back to searching for information on the local swamp.

* * *

The sun made him feel like he was hung over. Blinking blearily at the ceiling, he looked around his bed and saw a bunch of papers and a book or three. It took several seconds for him to realize he’d fallen asleep with his laptop in his lap. Grunting, he moved it onto the bed and got up. Rubbing his eyes, he took a shower and then started the coffee. He was still in his boxers, but as he didn’t feel like leaving his apartment yet, he was perfectly fine with it. Grabbing his cup of coffee, he drank it down before spotting his phone. It had been plugged in, thankfully, so he picked it up and thumbed it on. Blinking at the sheer number of texts he’d received, he groaned. Unlocking it, he saw most of them were from Damon and Derek, with a few from the rest of the pack and even a couple from the other vampires.

Sitting down at his desk, he read through them. Derek wanted to talk to him; Damon wanted to come up with a better solution to him just letting go; Lydia wanted to kill him and everyone else seemed to be on board with her. Considering he’d probably hurt Derek, he got it. The surprise was when he came to texts from Stefan. In the time he’d known them, it felt like Stefan and Damon barely got along. They often seemed to be at ends with each other and the tension when they were in a room together was stifling. Yet he was reading texts from Stefan telling him about how his brother was doing better then he ever had.

_“We both loved the same woman once. When we discovered she was gone, he was broken. Then we found out she wasn’t and she’d played us. My brother has been a lot of things, but happy hasn’t really been one of them. He met you and things changed. Please reconsider.”_

He knew about Katherine, he learned about Elena and how she eventually swung back to his brother. The sheer heartache the man had suffered matched Derek’s in an alarmingly equal way. But, he couldn’t change his mind. He would not pick one over the other. It wasn’t in his blood. Deleting the texts, he got dressed. He looked at his research again and sighed before getting a few supplies and shoving them in his bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he left and headed to the swamp.

It took over three hours for him to find it and he was pretty certain he’d gotten lost twice. Wrinkling his nose at the smell, he finished his second bottle of water and swiped a hand over his head, brushing away the sweat. Goggle had failed him; so now he was trying to get a better look. He moved cautiously forward, setting his bag down. He wanted to be able to run if he needed to and every time he had a bag he ended up falling over and hurting himself. He was alone this time; no one was going to yank him back to his feet.

Getting closer, he shivered at the maliciousness he felt. It was disturbing and he almost stopped. Something urged him forward though. He carefully pulled a few sticky branches aside and frowned as he looked into the area. It was almost disturbingly green. Stepping forward a little, he felt a crunch and looked down. He swallowed when he saw he’d stepped on the skull of a dead animal. Sharply looking around, he saw the very large number of bones and began to back away. He needed help, like now. He barely made it a step before he was yanked further in. Finding himself upside down, he stared into the three eyes of something green with far too many teeth.

“When the hell did a swamp monster move in?!” he yelped before passing out as it hit him against a tree.


	11. All Tied Up

Groggily, he opened his eyes. He was confused as hell. The last thing he remembered was the bark of a tree before he was eating it. Now he was pinned to his mattress between two bodies. Blinking slowly, he turned his head and started when he saw Damon’s eyes glaring darkly into his. Turning the other way, he saw Derek was glaring as well. Feeling oddly like he was ten and he’d been caught trying to sneak away with the last of the brownies again, he shrank back from them. The pain hit when he moved and he groaned in pain. A cold hand pressed against his forehead and he felt a little better. His mouth was dry as hell though and he wanted to ask questions. Carefully he moved his arms, intending to sit up, but he was pushed back down. Groaning with frustration, he glared back at them until they got the hint and helped him sit up. He was given a bit of water that soothed his throat before they moved to hold him.

“What happened?” he asked; his voice scratchy.

There was an unnerving silence and he looked to see Damon holding himself back. Derek was glaring angrily at something though. Looking, he realized it was the clothing he’d been wearing. Suddenly he realized he hadn’t checked to see how he was. He looked down and saw his chest was bare but for bandages wrapping around it. Swallowing nervously, he waited. As much as he wanted to know what happened, he was also afraid of learning the truth. He did wonder how they were in his room.

“We were talking,” Derek said suddenly, “We both went to Deaton to learn what the spell was you cast. He told us about how magic users need someone. We went and were talking…”

“It was friendly even, something that surprised the others. Telling us to get lost kind of made us realize we didn’t want to.”

“So we were talking, discussing if we could get along for you.”

“Your friend, Lydia right?” Damon checked, looking at Derek who nodded with a shudder, “Made us kiss. It wasn’t the best kiss ever.”

“You bit through my lip.”

“You chipped my tooth!”

“It wasn’t the best, but we realized that yeah, okay, we can make it work.”

“We were about to start debating ways to get along even more when we heard you scream.”

Derek shuddered and his hand curled into his. Stiles was in shock as he listened, “You were still unconscious from the blow to your head, but even you couldn’t avoid screaming. We ran towards you, everyone did, only to find you were about to be eaten, alive, by…”

“A swamp monster,” Damon stated. The way he said it made Stiles realize he was still in disbelief that a swamp monster had even existed; though to be fair, even Stiles felt a bit of disbelief. Damon shook his head and continued, “We got there before anything was ripped off. It took sometime and several frantic calls to the vet, but we managed to kill it.”

“We were almost too late though,” Derek said, his voice soft and pained, “You were bleeding out badly and your lung had collapsed. We rushed you to Deaton, but we couldn’t risk giving you any vampire blood. You… your heart stopped, twice.”

Looking at them, he could see they were both pained by that. Without really thinking, he grabbed their hands and held them tightly. It helped relax him, to feel them and it confused him. There was no way it should be that easy. Closing his eyes, he missed the startled looks they exchanged. Both his eyes popped open after a few seconds and he stared at them in disbelief. Derek looked a little sheepish while Damon looked like a smug asshole. Stiles stared at them, “What did you do?”

“We did the bonding spell,” Derek explained, his voice soft, “We couldn’t risk anything, since your heart was… but we read the book and we saw you’d share our traits, the good ones anyway. Damon said we could either both do it or he’d do it but it was happening.”

“And now we’re bonded; married even!” Damon said, cheerfully.

Now Stiles understood why he could sense them so clearly now but he was blushing. He opened his mouth a few times before he swallowed painfully, “Uhm, not exactly. We’re engaged… the bond isn’t complete until we, uhm…” he fell silent, unsure of how to put it. They stared at him and he felt even more blood rush to his cheeks, “We have to consummate the bond,” he finished, looking away from them.

It was Derek who broke the silence with a small snicker. His eyes snapped towards him and he watched the werewolf just start roaring with laughter. He looked over and saw Damon was already laughing so hard he wasn’t even making a sound. Annoyed with them, he pulled his hands away and tried to get up. Abruptly two sets of hands were holding him down and he was startled to see both of them changed. Derek’s eyebrows were missing and Damon’s eyes weren’t a cheerful blue anymore.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I was going to go sit somewhere where I wasn’t being laughed at,” he sulked.

“No,” Damon said, taking over for Derek, “You’re still recovering. You will stay right here.”

“Stiles… we know about the consummation. We read the book too. But honestly, it’s like you’ve never had sex. It’s…” Derek trailed off.

Stiles was blushing, horribly. He’s had sex… but nothing had ever been in his ass but his own fingers. There had never really been a time when he wanted someone to top him. Now though, he knew they would both have to take him. Rubbing his hands over the bed sheets, he swallowed nervously. He did trust them, but it was still a scary thought.

A hand cupped his chin and tilted his head up. Soft, yet cool, lips pressed against his. He leaned into the kiss and Damon allowed him to deepen it. Pulling away when the need to breathe became extremely relevant, he was startled when Derek did the same. He was breathless by the time they were finished before he was wrapped in the two of them.

“I’ve never let anyone… It wasn’t right, I suppose,” Stiles explained, closing his eyes, “So now that I know I had to… well, submit, to the two of you, I’m suddenly nervously excited.”

Derek chuckled and nuzzled his shoulder, “Can’t do anything right now anyway. Lydia is still all sorts of terrifying and she’s taken to being your nurse.”

“Hey, how are we in my apartment?”

“Deaton broke the spell so we could enter. He set up some basic protection spells so we didn’t have to focus as hard to keep you safe as well.”

Nodding at the explanation, he blushed when his stomach rumbled with hunger. He looked up as Derek left. Damon just tugged him a little closer, “You were only out for a day by the way. The healing kicked in and now you’re almost completely healthy again. Which is good, since I cannot wait to have you naked…”

“Damon! Don’t excite him too much!”

It was too late, Stiles imagination was running wild. He blinked slowly as something dawned on him and he looked up at Damon with an innocent expression. Someone must’ve warned him though, since he just looked suspicious, “Do I get to watch you and Derek together?”

Apparently, vampires could still choke. Who knew?


	12. Kiss, Kiss

It only took two days for him to finish healing. In those two days though, he had to deal with his suddenly very possessive mates and Lydia. He preferred the possessive mates, because Lydia had decided they need a marriage ceremony, even if it wouldn’t be on paper. It was terrifying. When she learned about how sex life (how is a question he would never be brave enough to ask) she insisted on a white tuxedo. He didn’t wear tuxedos. He had the body that made him look like an awkward painting by some overly emotional preteen girl; especially when he was in a tuxedo. Yet Derek had agreed and Damon had suggested the accents. So he was set up in a black tuxedo with blue and green accents. It took six hours for them to convince him to leave the dressing room when he tried it on. In the end, Lydia had destroyed the door and dragged him out by his hair.

Derek and Damon were not allowed to see him, and he was not allowed to see them. It was fine, but it totally wasn’t. He wanted to see them. He knew the stupid ceremony his terrifying friend was coming up with was going to be ruined when he popped a boner the second he saw them. Still, Lydia had photos and they were not photos he wanted people to see. After the tuxedo was all set, he was forced to pick out things like china, food and music. He didn’t understand why she was even bothering with asking him, since his suggestions were often dismissed.

Three months later, they had the ceremony. It was pretty and Damon surprised them both. It wasn’t a secret anymore that he hadn’t actually chosen to be a vampire, but had been seduced into it. Stiles tried not to glare at Stefan for that. Yet Damon tied his life force to theirs. If they died he would perish as well. It was strange and overly romantic. Stiles had melted into a puddle of feelings when he realized what the vampire had done. Derek had been just as surprised but he’d smiled at Damon as if he’d just answered a very serious question.

Now it had been a year since they’d had the stupid ceremony. He was living in a proper house with Damon and Derek while the pack crashed in the various rooms they had every couple of days. It was nice and domestic. There were fights, epic fights that often ended with Stiles running to hide somewhere. His magic had stabilized but he still accidently did things. Though he was certain no one was ever going to forget when he accidently turned Lydia into a man. It had been amusing as hell to see Jackson run away and hide. It hadn’t helped the slightest. Danny had been traumatized by Lydia demanding to know what she needed to do with her penis. Jackson had walked funny for two days and Lydia had dragged Stiles to purchase many strap on dildos.

Needless to say, he swore off anything to do with genders.

He had even, accidently, made it so Damon and Derek could not be apart, hand holding or something, for more then a minute before they’d start crying. It hadn’t been his intent when he’d cast the spell but they’d been bickering over their new bed for a month before Stiles resorted to such measures. He’d lifted the spell when they finally picked out a bed though.

Nothing was perfect. There were arguments, fights, accidents, but they were together. They both loved him before they loved each other. They also learned Latin for the sole purpose of stopping him before he accidently did something. He was pretty sure Damon had set it up so Lydia would be a man for awhile, but he couldn’t prove it. He knew Derek was the reason Danny had to spend a week with breasts (that hadn’t been a spell; that had been an herbal tea meant to help with pains of breast feeding).

Still he loved it. He loved his mates and they loved him. What more could there be?

Oh, he knew.

They could’ve avoided getting kidnapped by a kitten with oversized fluffy paws.

* * *

Staring up at the kitten he blinked carefully. He’d been ranting at them and now they were looking smug as hell. Casting his mind through everything he knew, he identified the creature as a nundu, a creature that was feline by nature and capable of eating anything in its path. It used to bring down entire cities. It also had the unique ability to look like a harmless kitten when it so chose to. Which was why he had been bitching at his mates just moments before; it shouldn’t have been possible to be kidnapped by something so damn cute.

Covering his mouth just to be sure he didn’t inhale anything it exhaled, he looked at the five rows of razor sharp teeth before looking at Damon. He was looking smug as shit. Derek looked amused as well. They were both basically saying that he was a dumbass for doubting them. Looking back at the giant cat, he blinked as it shrunk back down then rubbed against his leg. He knew both their expressions had just changed but he couldn’t help himself.

“Aw! Who’s a cute kitty?” he gushed, picking up the adorable kitten and scratching behind its ears. It purred with pleasure and nuzzled into his chest. He felt the spark of magic that created a bond between him and the kitty. He smirked as he looked at his mates, “You were kidnapped for upsetting me.”

“What?!”

“Mhm, so we’re taking… Mittens…” he nodded, that was a good solid name for a nundu, “home and you two are going to clean the fridge, like I asked you both, a week ago,” he finished before waving his hand absently. The tangle of roots they were in fell apart and he started walking home.

“Derek… is Stiles insane?”

“Well… he did mate with us.”

“…Touché.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if you've noticed, this is now apart of a series. I will add one-shots and drabbles of various things I can think of to go with this 'verse. Perhaps I will even do a few prompts.  
> I know there was hope for something...sexier... but my brain melts thinking of the sexiness. I will howevr work on a special one shot of their honeymoon. Promise!  
> Anyway, I have a [Tumblr](http://angeredthoughts.tumblr.com/) you can follow. I sometimes post little things there as well.  
> Hope you enjoyed it! ^_^  
> PS: Any ideas for Mitten's adventures?


End file.
